Last night, after work I caught the train down to Portsmouth to meet Nicktor. Ages ago he’d bought a load of tickets to see The Damned at the Pyramids. This followed the concert we went to in Holmfirth, on our cricket weekend.
Nicktor had also rounded up a load of dads from the boy’s football team. We met them in a pub before the gig. An R&B band were setting up in the pub as we drank. It’s a pity we didn’t stay to see them.
The support band, The Ruts, were very good but that’s pretty much it. The Damned were not.
It wasn’t because of lack of energy. They bounced around like young kids, enjoying themselves like teenagers. The problem was the sound. I think they were using a sound engineer without any ears. It was just very loud noise.
And this really spoilt it. Anyone who didn’t know the lyrics to any of their songs before hand, still wouldn’t have known any afterwards. The guitars, the drums, the keyboards and the vocals…all the same level. It was appalling.
The lighting was fine, except at the beginning when everything went off and then didn’t come back on again for a bit. It may have been something to do with the song they were singing but I have no idea because I couldn’t understand the lyrics.
After the gig, we emerged into the delightfully silent night and, apart from Nicktor, there wasn’t a lot of glee. Shame.
My favourite bit was staying over at the Cansfields, rather than trying to get home. Nicktor and I had a lovely little night cap before retiring when Polly decided it was time.
While this bit was lovely, there’s very little chance I’ll be doing that again!